


singularity

by fatalize



Category: Fruits Basket
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 16:21:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10193834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalize/pseuds/fatalize
Summary: Shigure had the dream, and then there was nothing he could do; the axis of his world became Akito.A character study of Shigure, requested by an anon on tumblr.





	

Writers are dreamers, they say—they float along in daydreams, whisked away by their own imaginations. Their faraway-eyes glimpse hidden meanings between horizon lines, tucking their insights away in sleepy subconscious. Their pen is a translator for some secret dimension, unlocked with the power of words.

However many people often forget their dreams, too, or have none at all, and Shigure is no different. Sleep often feels like a blank restfulness to him, and he’s not quite sure he ever dreams, not quite sure he’s had anything like a dream before or after the one morning he had one so profound he woke up crying, his mind finally clear with one thing: his purpose in life.

Akito.

He’s consumed by this concept before he has an image to imagine it in; his body is constricted with this new emotion, this new feeling, this new _everything_ that’s suddenly passed through him like an absolute-zero breeze and locked itself in his bones.

Hatori and Ayame had the dream too, he learns. So did Kureno. They don’t talk about it, they just _know_ , and they crowd around Ren like she suddenly contained the secrets of the universe, not a baby.

And yet, while their reactions are similar—all of them tear-stained, overcome, confusingly clinging to this woman who unknowingly bears God—Shigure can’t shake the feeling of something _different_ in him, something other than the automatic-devotion the others experienced that spurred their feet to move mindlessly to Ren before they even processed what had happened. He lingers, looks, realizes this moment is not just special but crucial.

He feels clumsy walking over to her, off-balance for the first time. He’s never cried before; his parents always noted how quiet he was when he was a baby, how for the first few months they were worried he’d died in his sleep. And while he likes his parents enough, he’s sure he’s never loved before, never felt anything as powerful as the pull that draws him to this “God” and spins the dream endlessly in his mind, obsessive and unending.

The others are devoted. But they have extraneous things to bind them, outside links to chain their hearts to different people. Shigure just has this, and knows he will only ever have this—Akito’s existence is the singular thing to move him so completely.

Now he has an image of her: the constant scowl she wears, the cutting way her eyes narrow when he enters the room, knife-sharp and razor-edged; the way her nose crinkles in disgust, like someone tossed a dead skunk under the floorboards; the cropped black hair that gives her an androgynous allure; the loose kimono she wears that masks any feminine features. And with her like this, as she is—or even if she looked like anything else, really—he feels exactly the same as he did that morning when he woke up, the dream transforming his existence, his face tear-soaked with purpose.

“You disgust me.”

“My, in a bad mood, are we?” he teases.

She glares at him, eyes narrowing further. “You’re not nice. You’re never nice to me. You should be nicer.”

Akito is doing what she does best: throwing tantrums. Inflexible, she demands Shigure to be something he is not, thinks she has the power to do so because of the curse. Shigure, just as immovable, doesn’t succumb; neither of them will benefit from him obeying her, he thinks. So he remains statue-still, eyes ice-hard, waiting and hoping she will give up.

Shigure pauses a moment, still trying to appear unaffected and easy. “Nice like Hatori?”

“Nice like you care about me! Like you’re not trying to say you hate me, like you listen to what I say!”

The vitriol she throws at him sinks into him like a sponge, and he feels vindictive.

It’s times like these he would like to crush her, if it was the only way for her to be his.

Shigure folds his arms, checks the time. “I have to be going now.”

“No! Stay with me! Stay!”

He slides the door shut, even though his body is begging him not to, and leaves without a word.

Akito is not wholly wrong in her accusations, but she’s never right, either.

What she does understand: Shigure will not be like “the others.” Shigure will not be Hatori-nice; he especially will not be Kureno-nice. He will not give any sort of submissive kindness that the other zodiac members do that validates her “bond.”

What she doesn’t understand: He wants to spend every moment with her, doesn’t want to leave her. Wishes she would get rid of Kureno, wishes she wouldn’t care about the curse, wishes she would look at him and only him.

But they are both wild, stubborn, and selfish. Shigure can’t control her, despite his talents, so he returns home to a world where he _can_ control things.

In his novels he can do anything he wants, can decide how things will end, what characters will do. And since he sells well, he can make his own schedule, and torment Mitchan to his heart’s content.

_Knock, knock._

“Shigure-san? Dinner is ready!”

Tohru.

Pure, gentle, Tohru. Sweet innocent Tohru, with her wide accepting eyes and polite, forgiving speech; Tohru with her youth, her sailor uniform and braids; Tohru with sunshine-smiles and dedication to moving forward.

When he first met her it was like she fell from the heavens, the perfect pink-soft wrench to throw in Akito’s way. She’s the kind of girl, he thinks, that anyone would get attached to, would prefer if they got to know her, would want to love and dote and spoil.

Anyone but him, that is—for the dream-rooted obsession has remained locked in his sockets, in every inch of skin, the singular feeling that reins giant-like from the core of his being to the follicles of his hair.

Although sometimes, truth be told, Akito wears him down, and he wonders if he should feel sorry for using someone so sweet to fulfill his own goals, should feel ashamed of his ingenuity, considers if he should fall for someone like Tohru instead.

But they are merely thoughts, not his true feelings; while it’s entertaining to consider, he knows he doesn’t want it, could never make himself feel it.

“Shigure-san?” a small worried voice prompts from behind the door.

Shigure stands and slides the door open gently. “Sorry, Tohru-kun. I was working and got distracted. I’ll be out in a moment, okay?”

He gives her a casual smile and she’s instantly relieved— _so easy_ , he thinks. She’s so easily pacified.

She leaves to call Yuki and Kyo to dinner as well.

After idling in his room for a few minutes, he exits, enters the kitchen, and—

“I swear I’ll kill you, you stupid rat!” Kyo is standing, finger thrusted at Yuki, while Yuki simply takes more rice in his chopsticks.

“It hasn’t even been one minute, and you’ve said that twice already.”

“Cuz I mean it! I still haven’t paid you back for earlier, so why don’t we have a rice-eating contest?!”

“Um, well, you see, I—there may not be enough, but I—” Tohru stumbles.

“You’re making Honda-san nervous.” Yuki’s not even looking at Kyo. Kyo’s immediately flustered, and Shigure decides this is a good time to step in.

“Now, now Tohru-kun went and prepared this lovely dinner for us. It would be a shame to eat it quickly in a contest instead of savoring it, no?”

The effects of mentioning Tohru twice immediately works, as Kyo sits down quickly, still blushing, and begins to eat without another word. Yuki apologizes for the disruption, and Tohru assures him that it’s no big deal.

This is the power she has, the one so opposite of Akito’s. He wishes Akito could see this, could understand the difference between choice and order, love and obedience. But because she can’t she’s stuck, childish and selfish, and could never form a genuine relationship free of the curse, the way he wants.

He looks at Tohru again, smile-soft as she passes Kyo the soy sauce.

To get what he wants, Shigure will use any means necessary.


End file.
